


Too Shy to Scream

by SeverinadeStrango



Category: Sengoku Basara
Genre: Akechi Mitsuhide is His Own Warning, BDSM, Bondage, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Masochism, Shibari, Surrealism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-13
Updated: 2019-08-13
Packaged: 2020-08-20 19:30:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 540
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20233183
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SeverinadeStrango/pseuds/SeverinadeStrango
Summary: Mitsuhide questions whether he has it in him to disobey, and if he can do so with conviction.  His Lord eases him through it all.





	Too Shy to Scream

Seconds then minutes then hours, had it advanced to days yet he didn’t know he couldn’t tell. The silk strip tied tightly over Mitsuhide’s eyes made sure of that, as did the complete lack of sound in the room. Whether that was purposeful or of his own mind’s manufacturing he did not know, he had no way of knowing and to some level he did not want to know. A part of him slept peacefully here, suspended above the ground in a dizzying array of ropes designed and tied specifically to dig into each joint, each little spot that would guarantee only the worst of pains if he was to move, balanced on the point of his right foot. Precarious and teetering he could not fall and yet his inner instinct to stabilize himself would not relent as his Lord had known. 

_Where are you where are you_ was he being punished or rewarded was there a difference, was Lord Nobunaga standing before him, had he been doing so all this time or had he simply left Mitsuhide there like a forgotten memento and gone back to other affairs? He couldn’t take this much longer, drifting away without knowing where he was going or what was guiding him.

What if he never was to see his Lord again!

The battlefields would be irrigated thoroughly with the blood of their opposers, all while he was left drifting, unanchored, his vice his undoing he had gone too far to be pulled back and the panic started to set in. 

_My Lord please_

Something was touching his face, had Lord Nobunaga finally given him mercy or had he given in to desperate tears already. Hush just a little longer. Prove how worthy you are and with a shuddering breath he fought to remain still, silent, perfect. He would show them that he was devout in his sickening worship. Call my name scream for me. My Lord I cannot for I intend to pass your test. An inaudible whistle and then a blow to the back of his thighs, striking hard enough to bruise and he whined, biting down on his lip. 

Have you truly stayed is this a tormenting vision I have fashioned for myself, if Mitsuhide thought hard enough, stayed still enough, concentrated what was left of his coherent mind just so he could almost feel Lord Nobunaga’s breath, steady and promising and deadly, against the side of his throat. He did not dare to hope.

_Perhaps you have use for me after all_ oh yes oh yes my Lord please until there’s nothing left of me, how many times had he brought him to the very brink of reality, he’d lost count and trying to remember was out of the question when Nobunaga-kou had squeezed every last ounce of beautiful agony from him. Are you exhausted, are you worn? Yes – don’t you want to give in? 

How he wanted to. How he would fight against it. Let me hear you, Mitsuhide. Hands on him up the backs of his legs through his spine over every bite mark and bruise that had been left behind. Let me hear you.

He couldn’t disobey, and screamed his Lord’s name until his throat was raw.


End file.
